At Least the Music Was Good

When I selected "Just an American Boy" from Netflix, I thought I knew a little bit of something about Steve Earle, or at least his music. Not much of the music in this so-called documentary was familiar to me, but it (the music) was good ol' rock 'n roll, plus a little blue grass, which I really enjoyed.

The documentary was not so good, though. My impression was that a lot of film was exposed (and not very well), then edited by a 13-year-old with new film editing software. At first, the graphic phantasmagoria was annoying, then a source of amusement, and finally a giggle fest.

And there was no storyline to speak of. Yes, Earle is against capital punishment, as am I, but we don't share motivation. Earle doesn't want blood on his hands, and he identifies with the perpetrators in a there-but-for-the-grace-of-God-go-I sort of way.

Older But Not Wiser

I just found out that a friend of mine - one who is only a couple of years older than me - was diagnosed with vascular dementia. She has clear days and cloudy days, but it is a progressive thing, so eventually the cloudy days will take over. Meanwhile, she is making the most of the clear days, to travel and visit family.

So, what do you say to someone with an incurable illness? My thoughts are with her, but frankly most of my thoughts involve a feeling of relief that it is her and not me. Not very selfless, but accurate.

I don't know what to say to my stepmother, either, who suffers from a variety of painful, chronic but not fatal illnesses. She could live a very long time, suffering all the way. You can't say "get well" or "things will get better" because she will not get well and things will not get better. Instead, it will be one damn thing after another, until the end.

WWALD? (What Would Ann Landers Do?)